PTO
by cpneb
Summary: It’s been a long time,...but things are quiet for a bit. Thomas, as much as everyone else involved, really needs some ‘me' time…a day off would be wonderful….and, unexpected? A 'neb's Angels story for Thomas L.


_**PTO**_

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Company. Members of ''neb's Angels' are owned by the individuals. The ''neb's Angels' story concept is used with the permission of the author, Thomas Linquist.

This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

Enjoy! Please read and review.

--

The 60-inch plasma television screen snapped on, and a silhouette of an African-American gentleman (you could tell by the hair) appeared on the screen.

"Good day. I have a tale to tell…

"Once upon a time, there was an interesting little site on the Internet where people interested in a Disney cartoon could gather and post stories of their own creation.

"Over time, it was noticed that new and unusual creatures, plot bunnies, had begun to infest the site, biting the writers at an astounding rate; these bites led to odd and sometimes weird behavior, and they began affect the quality of the stories, as well.

"One young writer, now thirteen years old (but already a genius…lol) and writing partner with her father, created a weapon to fight these creatures: the Godzilla Grand-Slam Bunny-Eradicator 4000; or, the BE-4000, as it's sometimes called. With it, the young writer, kt, began her mission to control the plot bunnies.

"Then another author, cpneb, started to see another type of plot creature outside of his home: plot squirrels. They had a similar effect on the writers as the bunnies did.

"When this development was noted in the discussion forum, kt got another equally brilliant young writer to join her in the creature control effort, Akinyi.

"After CaptainIT made a joking comment that the young pair of writers were starting to sound like the characters from a certain television show, the joke became a one shot story that, most surprising to the author, has grown from there.

"The team of kt and Akinyi were joined by Joss Possible; and together have become collectively known as "The Angels" or, as they are called now, "Angels West." Thomas Linquist graciously volunteered to lead this team and document their exploits.

"After one of the original team was kidnapped, it came to light that Thomas and I had stared the expansion for another team. Headed by Samurai Crunchbird, this new team was made up of new (at that time) writers Absentialuci and Neo the Saiyan Angel. They were joined by Monique Jenkins. Together, they became known as "Angels East."

"Anabri, another young writer, learned of the capture of kt and volunteered her services in the recovery. She was joined by her writing-site father Ran Hakibu, who was also known (but not to too many people) as Ran-Hulk.

"kt was recovered successfully, and she has no residual effects from MaceEcam's use of the HencoCo Attitudinator on her. ja, her father, has decided not to pursue MaceEcam, choosing to let the legal system deal with him. MaceEcam is lucky: ja can strip the siding off the side of a house with that bullwhip of his.

"Things have calmed down…for now. But they all need a rest, even Thomas, though he'll never admit it.

"Who am I? I'm cpneb, and I support these wonderful and talented young men and women any way that I can. They, in turn, like to call themselves…

"…'neb's Angels."

--

**A/N Forward: **

It's been a long time,...but things are quiet for a bit. Thomas, as much as everyone else involved, really needs some 'me' time…a day off would be wonderful….and, unexpected?

--

**PTO**

--

It wasn't the filtered sunlight coming in through the wooden shutters that covered his bedroom windows.

It wasn't the sounds of the gulls and the sparrows arguing outside over the latest food options.

It was the smells that awakened him, and he smiled as he opened his eyes and looked over his feet toward the bedroom door.

The twin carts sat there, a cloth draped between them, beckoning to him like the ancient Greek sirens that called the sailors to their doom; only, this time, they were calling him to dine. The aromas were heavenly, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath…

…and realized that, for the first time in a long time, he had time for a proper breakfast, not one of those liquid abominations or a walk-away, as his military friends called the ubiquitous hand-held sandwiches you could get at the fast food dispensers. All of the Angels were safe, Samurai Crunchbird was safe, kt was safe and had not killed MaceEcam for kidnapping and putting her under the influence of the Attitudinator, ja was calmer now that his daughter was safe, Ran had relaxed considerably after making sure that Anabri was safe, and 'neb…Thomas was surprised at all cpneb had done and the things he had not done: he had not gotten in Thomas' way and had allowed him to ensure the safety of the team while leading the recovery and capture efforts.

Thomas knew how hard it was for 'neb to not jump in and take over, and he appreciated the respect and confidence that he'd been shown by by the gentleman ultimately responsible for the safety of the Angels.

But, he liked the smells coming across the room even more, so he pulled himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, slipped on his bedroom slippers and robe over his pajamas, reached for his cane, got out of bed, and headed for the carts with the chair in front of them.

He sat, laughed as he lifted the lid labeled 'ME FIRST,' and smiled at the sight: two large carafes of juices: one orange, and one grape, and a large pot of steaming-hot coffee. Glasses on the tray were sparkling as he filled the first glass with grape juice and drank, savoring the cold juice going down his throat.

He smiled when he realized that the item that he thought was a cloth, draped between the two carts, was actually his morning paper, the thing he rarely had a chance to sit and read, anymore. He scanned the news on the 'net, of course, but it just wasn't the same as picking it up and turning pages in your own pace. Besides, one never knew what nuggets one might find in the things one read 'by accident'.

He turned over a coffee mug, filled it with the wonderful-smelling brew, and sipped: a huge smile formed on his face. He lovingly added two sweeteners, no cream, to the mug before finishing it in a single gulp and then pouring a second cup.

He lifted the second tray cover and let out a low whistle: two pancakes graced the large plate, but they were holding their on size-wise. These were the fluffiest and largest pancakes Thomas had ever seen: each cake was easily ¾ of an inch in height, if not a full inch, and a good 10 inches in diameter. Blueberries popped out of the tops and edges of each of the cakes, and the entire assembly was topped with Canadian bacon (prepared the way he loved it: just a light pan-fry, not burned to a crisp), sliced fresh peaches, and real Canadian maple syrup ('not that abomination that the Yanks call maple-flavoured-syrup,' he grinned), and reached for the syrup container to top off the creation. The two eggs, over-easy, that sat on a side plate looked lonely, but they were brought into the fold forthwith. 'In for a penny, in for a pound or two,' he laughed inside as he thought about his doctor's sarcastic comments about this breakfast.

He smiled, lifted the napkin from the cart, fluffed it out, and attacked.

--

"I know I shouldn't have, but it was all soooooo good," he laughed, looking at the naked plates which held only a hint of the food that had been there. He folded his newspaper and placed it on the left cart: he had actually been able to read it from front to back. "I haven't done that in months," he mused, taking the final sip from his coffee cup. The coffee made him smile, once again.

A beam of sunlight caught one of the juice glasses, and the unexpected shine made him pause for a moment and then reach for the glass and turn it:

Etched into the glass was an elegantly scripted "TL".

He looked: the three remaining glasses there were etched, as well. The etching was beautiful, a true professional job.

He smiled and touched the glass gently, and then he stood and headed to his bathroom to take a relaxing shower. It was nice to be able to do it and not have to hurry, for a change….

--

Coming out, he heard his PosComm vibrate.

'So much for a calm day,' he thought, picking up his silver-and-black unit from the nightstand charging cradle. It didn't need one, but he liked the idea…..

"TL: please meet me at coordinates," the text read, and map coordinates were displayed on the screen, "at 11:30 PDT. Not an emergency, but I would like to talk to you about the recent events…'neb." The message startiing with TL let him know that this was not an emergency.

He looked up and realized, first, that his bed was made. The pajamas that he'd placed on the bed were gone, replaced with a red _**Blaze**_**IT! **Meezod pullover shirt with matching socks; his tan slacks were pressed crisply, and his shoes were shined perfectly. "Well, that must have been Joss' idea," he grinned as he got dressed.

"Good morning, Angels," he called out as he opened the door that led from his apartment and into the open area that included his office in the alcove, but there was only silence…and a large note taped to the front of his monitor at his desk.

"Thomas," the note started, and he recognized Monique's distinctive handwriting, " we all decided that, after what we'd been through, we needed to take some 'us' time, so we all left and headed out into the city. Don't worry," he could almost hear her laugh as he continue to read, "Akinyi, Anabri, and kt are all with me and Joss," and that thought made Thomas shudder more than a bit. "Lis and Neo headed out, looking for baby things," and Thomas laughed out: the idea of the pretty young Air Force mechanic 'with child' had surprised him, but the constant kidding that 'neb was taking about her twins being his kids had turned into a full-time job for everyone. "And, SC decided to head back to Tampa for some more 'Bear-time.'" Thomas smiled: SC was so very happy with the lady he described as his 'Baby Bear" and who looking nothing like his description.

"So, you've got the joint to yourself: don't do anything we wouldn't do. Be good, baby boy. Love, Mon."

Thomas smiled. He knew that Monique was very much aware that he thought she was pretty, and she took every chance she could to stir him up. Oh, those legs…he remembered her coming out of her apartment, wearing a white crop top and a pair of white Daisy Dukes. She laughed at him while he stared. "Like what you see, baby boy?" she had purred, and he nodded with an embarassed smile. "Good: then my work is done," she smiled, blew him a kiss, opened the refrigerator door, and bent over.

He didn't remember much after that….

He looked at the clock: 10:25. 'I'd better head in to meet 'neb,' he thought,

After putting the office systems on automatic with a single touch of his screen ('thanks, Wade,' he thought), he picked up his new polished onyx-black cane, slipped his PosComm into the hip holster, and headed to the elevator. It opened as he approached, and he stepped inside, punching the code on the digital lock that placed the top three floors of the building in lock down mode until authorized voice prints and codes released it. He smiled, thinking about Monique's note, and pressed the button for the garage level.

It was a quick ride down to the underground garage. The doors opened onto a space lit by long fluorescent lights. The normal volume of cars, owned by the employees of the companies that rented space in the building, was down; several were taking vacations, and some tenants had moved out after the attack. Fortunately for the building owners, they had been replaced quickly by tenants who recognized the logic behind being based in a building with the Angels.

Opposite the exit ramp was a locked gate, which seemed to block off an old shipping door. Thomas reached into a pocket, pulled out a key, opened the locked gate, and rolled up the now well-maintained but rusty garage door. 'Maybe I'll have time to take the car through a wash after my meeting with 'neb,' he thought. The North Dakota trip had left both the inside and outside of the car filthy, prairie grass seemingly stuck in every nook and cranny.

He took one step into the room and stopped:

A huge smile crossed his face.

The black Smart Roadster, previously covered in white and brown dirt from the trip to North Dakota, was now immaculate. The roadster literally shone from the obvious loving care that someone had clearly giving it.

That care must have included a hand-washing and a meticulous wax job: in one corner was a can of cleaner wax, one can of Carnauba paste wax, and a can of Carnauba High-Speed polishing wax, all empty. Two bottles of armour-All stood vigil, and there was also a high-speed hand buffer with used pads, along with a pile of used polishing clothes and bonnets.

The tires were jet-black, so cleaned and polished were they, and the wheels literally shone with a deep shine. The chrome sparked to the point that he could have sworn they could be used to bounce laser beams, again clearly showing the love and care was that had obviously taken place.

Thomas walked around the car, marveling at the detailing that someone had done. Whoever did it obviously loved cars with a passion, must have known exactly how much he loved his car, and that love showed with every detail. He stopped at the driver's side door, looked inside, and smiled: even his grey Aussie hat, placed lovingly in the front seat, had been steam-cleaned and blocked so that it looked brand new and well-loved at the same time.

He reached over the door, retrieving his hat, and put it on. He then opened the door, got in, placed his cane in the slot between the seats, and closed the door as he donned his pair of BanRay sunglasses. He put the key into the ignition, and the dash came to life. A hidden panel powered up on the center console and displayed an outline of a hand. Thomas placed his right hand inside the outline and watched the green light scan up and down his palm three times. The scan completed, the light disappeared and the ramp quickly appeared that led from the hidden garage to the exit ramp.

Thomas placed his handheld PosComm unit into the car cradle to sync it to the unit built into the car, and the coordinates appeared on the dash map. He took the roadster out of park and pressed the accelerator; unlike the last exit, the tires didn't smoke as he headed out of the garage.

--

The CHiP motorcycle officers had just gone on duty when they saw the oncoming car.

"Well, that's more like it,' Ponch laughed as the Smart Roadster drove by at the speed limit.

--

"You have arrived at your destination" the ubiquitous voice spoke from the speakers in the car as the Roadster pulled into the parking lot. The building was unassuming, and there were no signs identifying the occupants. A plain glass door was within reach of the handicapped parking spaces, and Thomas pulled into the first open space. He grabbed his cane and got out of the car, clicking the remote to raise the top and seal the car to intruders and random attacks by plot squirrels and/or pigeons.

The soft chime sounded as he opened the door, and the door behind the counter opened.

Thomas has two thoughts:

One was that he hoped that this was not what Monique would look like in a few years: if she did, he felt sorry for the entire male population of the Tri-Cities area and the state of Colorado.

The second was that he hoped that this was what Monique would look like in a few years. The tall ('taller than Monique,' he grinned inside), shapely, curvaceous, and lovely young woman appeared to be of a racial mix. He realized that he had never seen an unattractive person of mixed race, and she pulled up the average by several tens of points. Of African-American and, he guessed, southern European descent, her smile reminded him of Monique's dazzling and disarming smile; Her long brownish-black hair was stunning, framing her face and reaching down as if to caress her top. Her arms appeared to be strong, and the legs…he noticed that she wore silk hose, what had to be at least 2-inch heels that matched her light tan dress that was covered by her white medical coat.

"Good morning, Mr. Linquist," her voice was smooth, with a southern American accent tinged with something from Europe, he was certain. "Welcome to 'The Shop', where you will get the 'Midas touch,'" she smiled, and Thomas was certain that he was happy that he was happily married.

"So, are you Helena?" he asked, generating a soft chuckle from her that reminded him of what he imagined kt's giggles would sound like when she was older.

"Why, no, suh," she replied, adding to that just-hinted-at Southern accent and then returning to her normal tone of voice, "she's my older sister. I'm Aphrodite," she smiled, and Thomas grabbed his chest.

"Are you all right?" her voice changed to worry.

"No, I'm not," Thomas replied honestly. "I'm ready to die, now: I married my wonderful wife, met Monique, and now I've met you. You, dear lady, are a heart attack, just waiting to happen. 'Take me now, Lord,'" he said, and she laughed, a musical sound that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Are you ready for your afternoon of rest, relaxation, recovery, and sensuality?" she purred, and Thomas, unable to speak, simply nodded.

"You're cute," she stepped forward and took his hand. "Midas was right about you," she added, the warmth of her hand surprised him as she pulled him forward to behind the counter and through the rear door.

--

He sat in the chair, more relaxed than he had been, he believed, ever in his life.

Aphrodite was, truly, a goddess, with those long and luscious fingers of hers. As he changed behind the screen in her private salon, she told him about her past: a child of the American military, but not the normal mix: her mother was American ad her father was native Greek. They had gotten married, and she was born on the US base in Europe to ensure her dual citizenship. Her parents moved back and forth between Athens and Dallas, but they came out to the West Coast on occasion to visit her. Her dad laughed at her because, even though she was Greek and American, she abhorred lamb, choosing beef and pork over it every time.

"I went to university and studied to be a doctor, but I chose physical therapy over the doctor track: I enjoyed helping people too much, especially people like you, Thomas," she admitted when he came out from behind the screen and lay down on the massage table.

"People like me?" Thomas asked as she pulled the robe down. He was glad he had clean boxers on….

"Yes, Thomas," she tittered. "I know what you and the Angels did to stop the plot creatures, and I can't believe that you, with MD, would expose yourself to the dangers that you did," she added as she began to massage his calves.

"It was no big, dear lady," Thomas said before he let out a low moan.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked.

"Not at all: that felt wonderful," he admitted.

It only got better, and for the next two hours Thomas was treated to the exquisite touch of a talented mistress of massage and the wonderful feel of the massage oils she used to help loosen his muscles.

By 1:30 PM, Thomas was convinced that he could live on the table, but his stomach betrayed him with a growl. Aphrodite laughed and helped him sit up. "Put your robe back on, handsome, and join me for lunch?" she asked, and he nodded. She grinned and left the room, leaving Thomas to wonder just long he could survive with her even in the same room.

It seemed like no time passed before she opened the door and rolled a cart into the room, and the aromas assaulted Thomas' nose, much as breakfast had done.

The reaction to these aromas were much like his reaction to breakfast.

"I hope you like mushroom soup," she smiled as she lifted the lid on the tureen, and Thomas wondered if his wife would let her move in with them and cook. He looked at what looked and smelled like a wonderfully-prepared cream of mushroom soup. She ladled servings into bowls for both of them and pulled up a chair at the table. "Dig in, and tell me what you think," she said, and he placed his spoon into the creation.

He captured a spoonful and lifted it to his mouth: he could smell the vegetable and chicken stock, the cream, and he could see the mushroom pieces. He thought he recognized shiitake, button, white, and portabello pieces, and the chives and thyme made a wonderful accompaniment to the soup. He sipped, and he smiled: the cream was not heavy, but just right, and he could taste and see the green onions.

"This is wonderful, Aphrodite," he replied after he took a second spoonful. "Let me guess: you halved the flour and blended the mushroom stalks for a thicker base, and you sautéed the green onions in EVOO, correct?"

Aphrodite smiled a huge smile. "I need you around all the time: are you sure you're married?" she grinned, and she let out a faux-sigh when he nodded. "I've got to find a husband like you," she said, and Thomas laughed.

"Dear lady, you must be fighting them off with pony nukes, as beautiful as you are," Thomas replied, and she giggled and lifted the lid on the other platter.

"You can't forget your sandwich," she chided, and Thomas was convinced that he had died or that he was indeed dying.

In front of him was a roast beef sandwich; but, it was no normal roast beef sandwich. It looked like someone has taken a perfectly-prepared prime rib roast, sliced it paper-thin, and piled it high on ciabatta bread. He knew it was prime rob because a prime rib bone was on the plate, attached to a small piece of the wonderfully-prepared beef. He took the offered plate, placed it on the table, and picked up the sandwich with both hands.

His first bite confirmed that she must be some sort of psychic: the sandwich was just the way he liked it, with just a touch of yellow mustard, a hint of horseradish, and a thin slice of provolone cheese to make the sandwich, with the freshly-grilled green tomatoes. It was, truly, a thing of beauty.

"How did you know what soup I liked and how I like my roast beef sandwich prepared, dear lady?" Thomas had to ask after he had downed two full bowls of the wonderful soup and the entire sandwich.

"Your interview, silly: remember?" she asked with a grin. "I watched it several times that night, mainly so I could be certain you said you were married. I didn't want to make a total fool of myself by showing up at the Angels offices with flowers and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries for you," she confided, her eyes looking down and away from Thomas' face. Thomas was glad: she didn't see his wide grin.

"So," she continued after a few moments, lifted her face, and Thomas was shocked to see tears on her face, "When I heard you had an appointment, I convinced Midas that I needed the workout, and I'm glad I did."

"So am I," he agreed, and she smiled through her tears.

"So, are you ready for more rubdowns?" she smiled, and Thomas grinned.

"I should be so lucky," he replied, and he took his handkerchief from his robe pocket and dabbed her tears away. "I cannot stand to see a woman cry," he explained, and she reached up and took his hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, helping him to his feet. She moved the carts to the side, covered the remaining soup in the tureen, and helped him back onto the table. She left the room and returned, pushing a cart that seemed to slosh as it rolled.

"Time for your seaweed wrap," she grinned, and she pulled the cart up next to him and lifted the towels to reveal the fresh seaweed.

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to close his nose.

It didn't work….

--

Thomas walked out of the building and hit the remote that unsealed his car. He felt wonderful, more vibrant than he had in years.

Aphrodite had told him that he was her hero, and for someone with no skills (he thought), that statement had lifted his spirits immensely.

She had massaged him, lovingly, for a full three hours after they had dined on the wonderful lunch, and he confirmed that she had done all of the cooking herself. He told her that she was a wonderful cook, and that he wanted her recipe for the soup.

After he was dressed and headed out to the counter, Aphrodite came out, carrying out a sealed envelope and a package. She handed him the envelope, explaining that it held her recipes for both the soup and the prime rib. She handed him the envelope, smiled, and bent over him. "She's a very lucky woman, Thomas," she whispered, kissing his cheek: "maybe I'll get as lucky as her, someday," the tears falling from her eyes onto Thomas' shirt.

"I know you will, Aphrodite," Thomas replied sincerely, and he looked up, pulled out his handkerchief once again, dabbed at her tears, and placed the handkerchief in her hand, squeezing it closed. "I believe in you," he added, and he stretched up and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, Thomas," she smiled and wiped her face with the handkerchief. "I'll keep this forever," she added as he headed for the door. "Don't forget your robes, suh," she called, and Thomas turned and took the offered package.

"Thank you for believing in me," she called out as the door closed behind him.

He sat in his car and sighed. Such a lovely young woman, who doesn't believe in herself, and he realized that he had just described most of the Angels at one time or another. "Even me," Thomas thought as he started the car.

The dash PosComm blinked, and a text message appeared:

"I hope you enjoyed our 'meeting', and you made a young woman very happy. Thank you, Thomas, for believing in her. I'll see you later tonight; by the way, the book you've been waiting for your favourite bookstore is in, and they're holding it for you….'neb."

Thomas laughed as he backed out of the parking lot and headed for the highway.

From inside the building, Aphrodite looked out through the door and watched him drive away, and she smiled a sad smile. "If only," she thought, and she turned and went back to her office.

--

Thomas went by and picked up the book he'd been waiting for, taking some more time to peruse the other selections, as well. It was well into rush hour when he pulled back onto the highway and headed home, but he was lucky and avoided all of the major traffic snarls, turning onto the street leading to the headquarters by 6:45 PM PDT.

The flashing LED on his dash signaled an unexpected vehicle in the building garage. He queried building security and smiled: a Roth SL Coupe. He pulled into the garage, parked, took his book, his package, and cane, and headed up the elevator.

Two floors below the main level, he could smell the goodness and the garlic. The elevator door opened, and Kim Possible stood, her arms crossed across her chest and a smirk on her face. "So, did you enjoy your escape, Thomas?" she asked, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before she took his packages from his hands. "I see Joss branded you this morning," she laughed, pointing at the shirt.

"I like yours, Kim," he retorted, pointing at the TP stylized logo on the red shirt she wore, and he answered her first question: "As a matter of fact, Kim, I did. And, just what are you and that crazy man of yours doing here?"

"Cooking dinner," a voice called from the kitchen with a chuckle. "I think you'll like it."

Thomas took another deep breath and laughed. "We're having garlic for dinner?"

"You might say that, Thomas," Ron replied with a laugh. "How about a wilted spinach salad with grilled garlic, chopped hard-boiled egg, and crispy bacon to start?"

"What, no croutons?" Thomas asked in shock, and Kim laughed.

"I made the croutons, Thomas," she laughed, and Ron laughed when he walked out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of the croutons and saw the look on Thomas' face. "And, no," she pouted, "I didn't burn the bread, the butter, the garlic, the salt, the pepper, anything," and Thomas had to laugh with the two heroes. Ron popped one into Thomas' mouth, and Thomas crunched, followed by a huge smile on his face.

"Kim, these are wonderful!" he exclaimed. "These are better than any I've ever had before," he continued, reaching for the bowl and grabbing a handful, but not before Kim stepped over and kissed his cheek.

"I think I'll keep you around, Thomas," she purred, and she laughed hard when Thomas grabbed at his chest.

"Hope you like Italian, Thomas," Ron said, turning and walking back into the kitchen.

"He got the starter recipe from Sato," Kim giggle, "and he's 'kicked it up' a notch or five."

Thomas was certain that he had never heard her giggle before, but he was even more certain that he wanted to hear it more often. He thought for a moment and realized that there were no other sounds in the office. "Where is everybody?" he asked, perplexed.

"They're in town," Kim replied.

"But, we're back: do you think I'd miss Ron's cooking?" Monique called as she walked through the door.

"Cuz, you'd be crazier than MaceEcam if you thought I'd miss Ron's Chicken Premature," Joss called as she entered the room; she and Monique both had huge book bags filled to overflowing.

"That's Chicken Parmesan, Joss," Ron called with a laugh, "You've got it as bad as Mrs. Dr. P and her ark-i-chokes," he chuckled.

"She can't help it, Ronald," Absentialuci came in, laughing with kt and Anabri. "She wasn't born in France, so she has no sense of proper speech," she added with a smile, and both kt and Anabri giggled.

"Luci, you're evil," Neo the Saiyan Angel said, entering the room.

"Moi, evil?" Luci laughed. "Thomas, you should have seen the guys when Neo came out of that dressing room in her bathing suit. I swear, three of them ran over mannequins, and another one looked like he was molesting one after he fell on top of her."

"Hey, I liked the suit," Neo countered, "and I just wanted a second opinion."

"Well, you got a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and no telling how many wolf whistles," kt grinned.

"I lost count at 25," Anabri added with a wicked smile, and Neo blushed.

"Have you two been spending time around 'neb, again?" Neo asked in a jocular accusatory manner, and kt just grinned while Anabri tried to look innocent.

It didn't work, and the two young women burst out laughing, looking at each other.

"Everybody get washed up: 'The Ron' is serving in 10 minutes," Ron called from the kitchen, "and all who are not clean get no food." There was an immediate mad dash for the apartments and bathrooms.

--

Ron outdid himself, and Kim helped, as well:

The wilted spinach salad was more than enough to make even Monique purr, and Kim had to give her a glare after the third moan came from her lips. "I can't help it, Kim: your man can cook," she moaned softly. Thomas laughed as he watched Kim blush and Ron grin.

Anabri looked at kt, who mouthed "later" with a sly grin.

Kim got up, and headed into the kitchen, and she returned with her arms filled with whole loaves of garlic bread, still steaming. Thomas did not want to know how she held all of that hot bread without hurting herself, but she managed to spread the loaves out around the table before she sat back down.

Ron then brought out huge bowls of both whole-wheat and traditional spaghetti, tossed them with some freshly-grated Parmesan cheese, and returned with a cart filled with the main course.

"I decided to try two different methods for the Chicken Parmesan: I de-boned three whole chickens, cut them into 2.5 x 2.5 inch pieces, and made one version of CP, and I used whole de-boned chicken breasts, pounded, for the other. Both got a bath in melted butter, minced garlic, tarragon, thyme, and a pinch of salt before getting dredged in Panko bread crumbs. I let the whole breasts set for about 35 minutes to even the temperature while I made the tomato-basil sauce and sliced the Mozzarella from the block before Rufus got to it,"

"HEY!" came from the kitchen.

"I heated the EVOO and butter, browned the breasts, and put them in the oven to finish cooking while I tackled the chicken pieces, starting their cooking after they had set for only 15 minutes after breading. I pan-seared them for a few minutes, just long enough to get a consistent brown before moving them to baking dishes and finishing them off.

"That gave me time," Ron smiled, uncovering the chicken, "to finish the spaghetti and the homemade garlic bread: the bread is better when you use the squeezed whole garlic cloves, rather than mixed with butter, as spread after sautéing them until the garlic gets a golden brown and soft.

"And, the artichokes are, of course, served with a dipping garlic butter," Ron laughed. "There will be no vampires here for a long time to come," and he proceeded to take Thomas' plate and fill it to just the right amount and place it back in front of him.

Thomas took a bite of the chicken covered in sauce and smiled. "There's something you didn't tell us, Ronald, he chided, and Ron grinned.

"Guilty as charged, TL: I added chipotles to the sauce as they cooked to add an extra 'zing'," Ron admitted.

--

Thomas leaned back in his chair, and he looked around the room and all the sated bodies and chuckled silently. Joss tried, but even she couldn't down a second glass of the sparkling red grape after she had been stuffed with chicken, pasta, and artichokes.

They all talked comfortably about everything but work: how classes were going, how Hana was doing, how both sets of parents were enjoying a new paradigm at their houses without Kim and Ron there, how Wade was enjoying his new-found time out of his room (and, much to Joss' dismay, how much Joss was enjoying it as well, according to Kim), and how the recovery efforts were going.

But, in the midst of all of this, Thomas felt a twinge that he couldn't put his finger on.

"Thomas," Ron smiled across the table, "did you enjoy your dinner?"

"Indeed I did, Ronald, but something's missing…in fact, I have two questions."

"Shoot," Ron replied.

"One: why all this, and

"Two: where's 'neb? I would expect him to be here if this was a celebration of sorts."

"'neb, let me tell him one thing, first," Ron spoke.

"Of course, Ronald," a more-than-familiar voice responded over the office's sound system.

"I made a little extra for you to take home and cook at your own convenience, Thomas: it's in the freezer, waiting for you to take back to that wonderful wife of yours," Ron reached over and squeezed Kim's hand. "You and your wife remind me of my parents…just younger," Ron added with a grin. "I keep expecting you two to surprise me with some little Linquists, one of these days," he smiled and winked, and Thomas blushed.

"RONALD!" 'neb's laugh filled the room. "Thomas, you forgot, didn't you?"

"Forgot what, 'neb?" he asked, truly confused.

The room burst into laughter, and Thomas looked confused.

"You really don't remember?" Joss asked, and Thomas shook his head 'no.'

"In the middle of everything that happened was the anniversary of when we first met, Thomas," 'neb's smile could be heard over the speakers. "You came to me and suggested that we do this, and look at what we've done; or, more precisely, look at what you've done. Happy anniversary, my friend: without you, there would be no 'neb's Angels, and MaceEcam would have won.

"Angels, and friends, I propose a toast," and glasses went up in unison and chairs were pushed back as all stood, except Thomas, who sat, stunned. "To Thomas Linquist: we've got your back, my friend."

"To Thomas!" came from all, and glasses clicked and were drained.

"By the way, Thomas, I take it the Roadster's wash and wax job meets your approval?" neb asked.

"'neb, it was a wonderful job. When can I talk to whoever did it, thank them, and discuss getting them to do it again?" Thomas asked.

'neb laughed over the speakers, and to Thomas' surprise Kim, started to blush a bright and deep shade of red. Ron started chuckling. "Well, Thomas," 'neb continued, "you might not be able to work the same deal that Kim and I did with Star to get him to come to LA again to have hom work with her to detail the car for you. I knew from talking to him that he is not fond of Cali; but, Kim talked to him and worked out a deal. I wouldn't ask about the deal details, Thomas: you know a true lady never tells," 'neb chuckled, and Kim grinned.

"And, Thomas," 'neb continued with a chuckle, "I spent most of the day with a room full of 'docs, and boy, did I feel inferior!" 'neb laughed.

"You say that," came from the speaker system and Dr. Wade Load laughed.

"But, you don't mean it," laughed from the speaker, and Thomas recognized Dr. Adams.

"And, you certainly don't act it," a decidedly feminine voice finished the comments with a third laugh, and Thomas recognized Dr. Anne.

"Anyway," 'neb continued, "we decided that you needed one thing in your diet to help fight off the plot bunnies," and the doors to the kitchen swung open. All four came out, pushing carts with covered dishes.

"It was Wade's idea," 'neb started.

"Actually, it was Doctor Adams that found the concept," Anne smiled.

"Actually, Anne, I believe that it was 'neb's idea," Wade grinned.

"No, I believe that it was distinctly Anne's idea," Doctor Adams chuckled.

"What?" Thomas asked impatiently, and the four covered were all lifted simultaneously.

"Dessert," came from all four, and the laughter was covered by Joss Possible's scream:

"Not chocolate-covered strawberries…AGAIN!!!"

"Happy anniversary, my friend," 'neb said, smiling and extending his hand; Thomas stood and grinned for a moment. The two men then bumped fists, smiled, and then exchanged a hug.

"I'm feelin'' the love," Wade laughed, but Joss hushed him…and Wade had no complaints.

**Author's afterward:**

--

Happy Anniversary, albeit a bit late, to my dear friend Thomas.

PTO, in the corporate world, is the abbreviation for Personal Time Off.

Special thank, especially, to my wonderful beta Star-Eva01. Any errors in this copy are mine.

Thanks again for reading, and please review.

14


End file.
